The Known Lord
by ignoragative
Summary: So far so good I guess in this little mini series. Or whatever you wanna call it. But whatever, review review REVIEW! Por Favor? Please? Thank you TTYL!


The Known Lord 

Walking with the ranger following his every step was indeed frightening. Eragon could hear the rangers' wounded leg drag on the ground behind him. Eragon could tell that this wound was agonizing and would heal slowly on its own.

_Only fifteen yards away from Horst's house, _thought Eragon, _That is when I will ditch this creep._

A strong hand gripped Eragon's shoulder and turned him around viciously. The ranger's eyes bore into Eragon's and the ranger hissed.

"You shouldn't try to get away, Rider Eragon. You would learn what it would be like to be underneath of my blade." the ranger growled under his breath.

Eragon shoved the ranger's hand away roughly. "How did you throw me to the ground like that in the pub anyway?! You didn't touch me. You didn't do anything. What happened?" he blurted.

The ranger pulled back from Eragon quickly as if stung. He stared at his hands sadly. "I did not ask for the gift that I have. I do not want the gift that I have. I hate it."

And then the ranger looked up at Eragon. He was shocked to see that tears were glistening in the rangers eyes. Tears streamed down the man's face freely. Eragon could see the face of a kid only a few years older then him, masked under all of the hardship and hatred of life.

Eragon had the feeling that he recognized this new face. "Do I know you?" he asked awkwardly.

The ranger looked up and stared hard into Eragon's eyes. "You will." he replied.

And then the ranger drew his sword suddenly, then turned to face south. He moved in front of Eragon protectively. Eragon stared at the ranger in confusion.

"What is happening, ranger?" Eragon asked. Panicking, Eragon searched his tunic fro a sort of weapon, just in case. Nothing.

The ranger waited a moment to answer. Then turned his head slightly and whispered, "Raz'ac."

Eragon, confused, slightly turns to the left, and finds himself staring into the face of a monstrous creature, with a beak, and totally in black. He was about to cry out when the ranger put a hand over his mouth.

"Shhh. You must be quiet for now. Just step aside and let me handle this, Rider."

Eragon stepped aside, but then asked, "But what if you get hurt?"

The ranger chuckled, "Just leave the fighting to me, Rider! Stand aside!"

And with a quick flourish, the Raz'ac seemed to come to life. It screeched and leapt at the ranger with such ferocity and madness, you would think it was a wild pig.

The ranger met the Raz'acs' sword in mid-air with a spark and a clash. The Raz'ac rolled on the ground while the ranger got to his feet steadily, though painfully clutching his knee. "Goddamn it! These monsters have a lot to pay for giving me this wound." He mumbled angrily to himself.

The Raz'ac finally got to his feet. It thrust a pointy finger at the ranger. "You! Ranger Aragorn son of Elrond and Islanzadi, are about to pay for all of your misdoings to our Blessed King Galbatorix." it hissed.

"What misdoings? Other than existing, I haven't done a thing wrong other than help citizens that your king _has_ wronged. He is the mistake! Not me." said the ranger wryly.

The Raz'ac chuckled, a harsh, scraping sound. "For over 87 years you have done wrong! Our King has suffered losses beyond recognition for your cause. The Varden and the Council of Elrond are against His Majesty. They shall pay also."

Aragorn shook his head, laughing. "You forget your place, Raz'ac! You are but a servant! The king uses you as pawns! He doesn't care for your dying kind." he said.

The Raz'ac leapt at Aragorn with a cry of rage and fury that would have upset even the most terrible Urgal or Urukai.

And caught Aragorn off guard.

The poisonous black blade slid between Aragorn's ribs and protruded out the other side. Aragorn gave a strangled cry of surprise and dropped to his knees.

Eragon gasped in disgust. _I have never seen anything like _that_ happen before! Ugh, _he thought to himself.

The Raz'ac turned at the sound of his gasp. It ripped the sword out from Aragorn's chest and took an agonizingly slow step towards Eragon's alleyway. Eragon could see Aragorn on the ground, bleeding his life out on the cobblestone road.

_Would somebody _please_ come out and help us?! _Eragon cried out in his mind.

_Of course Eragon. Your wish is my command._ Saphira answered him faithfully. _I thought you would never ask!_

And with a rush of wind, Saphira landed in the alleyway, picked up the Raz'ac in her strong jaws, and flung it into the forest. They could hear it run farther into the forest.

Eragon cheered in triumph and wrapped his arms around Saphira's neck. A pained moan broke through the cheers. Eragon's smile disappeared quickly, as though it had never been there. He rushed over to Aragorn's side and sat beside the bleeding man.

The wound bled profusely. Hopelessly.

Aragorn opened his eyes slowly, as if exhausted. When he saw Eragon, he blinked sadly.

"You fought honorably, Aragorn, son of Elrond!" Eragon struggled to keep his voice from wavering.

Aragorn tried to laugh, but he ended up crying instead.

Now Eragon started crying. "You can't die! My uncle will probably die. Too many deaths…too many deaths. 87 years old? Too, too, too young!"

"Oh come on! I'm not going to die. And you're right. I'm too young. I'm not going to die, O Rider. I still need that healing though." Aragorn whispered sadly.

Eragon nodded and a hint of a smile glinted on his face.

"Now go get help, kid!" Aragorn shouted.

He heard Eragon run off with Saphira close behind him.

As he lay there, Aragorn thought, _What have I done? This boy is too young. To have everything revealed to him now would be devastating. What should I do? What should I do?_

He heard stomping and shouts coming towards him. Eragon lowered himself to look into Aragorn's eyes.

Eragon motioned towards the five men standing above him.

"This is Horst,"he motioned towards the man directly above him, though now he was sober, "and Baldor and Albreich," he gestured towards two burly young men, who were clearly Horst's sons, "and Morn the pub owner and Sloan, the butcher."

Morn waved at Aragorn with enthusiasm and Sloan stared grumpily at his wound.

Aragorn could see that when Eragon had said Sloan's name, he made a face and stuck out his tongue. Aragorn chuckled.

"They will be taking care of you for now. I have to go check on my uncle." Eragon stared long and hard into Aragorn's eyes as if concerned. And with good need to be.

Aragorn nodded with reluctance, as if he was not looking forward to parting with Eragon at the time being.

Eragon stood and ran off. Aragorn could no longer feel the pain in his chest. His whole body seemed to go numb. He could feel the men lift him up off the hard, lumpy ground. The man called Morn had accidentally hitched a hand underneath the out-spurt wound on his back. Aragorn cried out in agony.

They carried him into a stone house. A woman in the kitchen took one look at Aragorn's pale, bloody face and grabbed a hot cloth out of the oven. She opened up his tunic and cloak slowly and carefully and rubbed the wound down with salve.

"Go get some aloe juice for me, Horst dear!" She started barking orders at all of the men. She pulled Baldor aside and said in his ear, "Go grab Gertrude and Brom for me, will you, dear?"

Baldor immediately nodded and ran out of the front door.

The men set Aragorn down on the kitchen table firmly. He moaned when his back touched the wooden table.

_Would they please end the pain? I can't take this anymore. I...I just can't, _he thought to himself. He closed his eyes for a moment. Everything seemed more peaceful when darkness surrounded you.

He opened his eyes when a wiry woman walked in through the door. Her curly brown hair bounced as she walked and her dress fluttered at her heels. Behind her, an old man stooped in. His white flowing beard and hooked nose gave him the appearance of a white crow or raven.

When the old man saw Aragron's wound, he gave a short gasp and bent over it. With a bony finger, he pressed into the wound hard.

Aragorn did not have the strength to scream out, so he whimpered painfully and sucked in his breath and waited.

The man pressed one more time as hard with all the strength that he could muster.

Aragorn choked up a sob and everything went black.


End file.
